nything. Good night, Aunt Melicent--I am so glad you
like him!'

In this mind Mary met Lord Ormersfield. The delay had been an
advantage, for he was less irritated, and she had regained
self-possession. Her passage had been taken, and this was an argument
that told on the Earl, though he refused to call it irrevocable. He
found that there was no staggering her on the score of the life that
awaited her; she knew more on that subject than he did, had confidence
in her father, and no dread of Rosita; and she was too much ashamed and
grieved at the former effect of his persuasions to attend to any more
of a like description. He found her sense of duty more stubborn than
he had anticipated, and soon had no more to say. She might carry it too
far; but the principle was sound, and a father could not well
controvert it. He had designed the rupture with Louis as a penalty to
drive her into his measures; but he could not so propound it, and was
wondering how to bring it in, when Mary relieved him by beginning
herself, and stating the grounds with such sensible, unselfish, almost
motherly care of Louis's happiness, that he was more unwilling than
ever to let him resign her, and was on the point of begging her to
re-consider, and let Louis wait for ever rather than lose her. But he
knew they ought not to be bound, under such uncertainties, and his
conviction was too strong to give way to emotion. He thanked her, and
praised her with unwonted agitation, and regretted more than ever; and
so they closed the conference by deciding that, unless Mr. Ponsonby
should be induced to relent by his daughter's representations on her
arrival, Mary and Louis must consider themselves as mutually released.

That loophole--forlorn, most forlorn hope, as they knew it to be--was
an infinite solace to the young people, by sparing them a formal
parting, and permitting them still to feel that they belonged to each
other. If he began declaring that nothing would ever make him feel
disconnected with Mary, he was told that it was not time to think of
that, and they must not waste their time. And once Mary reminded him
how much worse it would be if they had been separated by a quarrel.
'Anger might give one spirits,' he said, smiling mournfully.

'At the time; but think what it would be not to be able to remember
happy times without remorse.'

'Then you do mean to recollect, Mary?'

'I trust to bring myself to remember rightly and wisely. I s